Take Me Out to the Ballgame!

Yesterday I had the priveledge of my first Cubbies game at Wrigley field. Now, we all probably know that I am not known for my expertise in the world of sports. In the last two years I have been trying to develop my sporting knowledge and interest. I'll say up front that it's a pretty daunting task. I mean, there are not only many sports to know about, but each sport has players, rules, and history. It really is a rather overwhelming endevour.

I am not exactly sure why I'm trying to develop my sporting interest. Perhaps it's because I realized I wasn't involved in about half of all conversations involving guys. Perhaps it is because I noticed that when guys were going to a sporting event I suddenly am not invited to participate (granted, Chorale did basically own my life in college...). Perhaps it's because I roomed with Kevin my senior year, who was not only on the football team, but also displayed a rather inspiring passion for the world of sports. Regardless, it is a quest of mine to learn a respectable amount about the major sports. It's a quest that will take years and years and there will be many more embarrassing questions, but I feel a little like Don Quixote and am ready for this quest...

As jazz is to music, baseball is to sports. It's American. I have been to a few baseball games before, but none of them compared to my day at Wrigley. Granted, it was snowing a little and we were numb by the end, but I loved every minute. As I looked over the field and into the stands, I felt like an American. And I liked it.

And as I sat there on that cold day, I realized something else entirely. Baseball is really quite beautiful. Baseball used to be my least favorite sport, but I actually think it's become my favorite in the last few years. (Well, besides skiing of course, but that's a little different.) What I like about baseball is that it's relaxed, and this is precisely what I didn't like while growing up. I thought it was boring. Nothing seemed to happen. I liked games with higher scores. You see, though, the relaxation is part of the beauty. There are moments of great tension and moments of great relaxation. Conflict and resolution, kinda like a 4-3 suspension before the cadence. I think of the other two main sports in America, basketball and football, and they're both so different. Almost constant chaos. Pockets and clusters of men running all over the place, running into each other, falling down. Not baseball. Baseball is the sport for the aestheticly inclined. The players are pretty spaced out, there is a meticulously manicured field, and in Wrigley's case, there is ivy, bleachers on top of the surrounding buildings, and a nice skyline off in the distance.

It helped tremendously that I had studied beforehand. (Really, this all does related to music. Loralee and I used to have "Opera Nights" where we would introduce friends to the world of opera. We always emphasized getting to know the plot, getting to know the characters, laughing. On a different note, I've realized I've been to more professional sporting events this year than classical music events. This really is something.) Kevin Welty was my teacher and he provided a good basis of Cubs information. Not only did he educate me on the current players, but I also learned a little Cubs history to bring out when I really wanted to impress people. (Who knew about Babe Ruth's "called shot" during the 1932 World Series? Ernie Banks is a Cubs legend, not just the name of Drew's dog. As for the Curse of the Goats, well, we all know I love goaties, so I won't say any more about that. And as a seminary student, did you know that Wrigley field is built on the site of a former seminary? Don't even get me started on the ivy.) It was good to know the players. I was delighted to know first-baseman Derrek (yes, two R's) Lee when he came out. Same with Corey Patterson and Greg Maddux, Ramirez and Zamrano. I was most looking forward to Nomar, but that stupid left-groin injury has him out for maybe three months. Unfortunately, I was also familiar with LeTroy Hawkins, the closer who can't close.

Perhaps my favorite moment of all was when all the fans, frigid and numb, stood during the seventh inning to a rousing rendition of "Take Me Out to the Ballgame." Yes, it was my third-grade piano recital piece. (I also used it as my audition piece for Juilliard-trained Leon Harshenin and was saddened when he didn't take me into his studio. Instead, he gave me to Kathy Grile instead. Someday I'll tell you about Kathy and what she would say about my hands...) But back to third grade: I remember being very nervous. I had on a white suite (ALA Mark Twain) and a fancy tie. I played it through with moderate success and was relieved to be done. But then my piano teacher Emily Jahn told me to stay at the bench and she talked to the audience. (Oh, Ms. Jahn. I remember she was obsessed with the color green and always had a lot of cleevage showing during lessons that it made me awkward and I didn't know where to look. My brother Nathan can testify to these truths if you think I am making them up.) Well, she told the audience I was going to play the song again and that they were all to sing along. It was fun, espcially for this third-grade accompanist, but it wasn't exactly rousing. At Wrigley, it was rousing. It was inspired. It was fun and memorable and loud and full of passion. Where else will thousands of men break out into loud song? You see, it seems the Cubbies know quite a bit about community and know a bit about the beauty that a community can have. For one day...just a few hours...I was a part of something that drew me in. I loved it. I want to go back. The Cubbies didn't win yesterday (remember, I already mentioned the closer who can't seem to close), and I was kinda upset, but it didn't matter too much. I was a kid, full of wonder and awe and excitement. I was a fan. I am moving to Chicago in a month. Hopefully there will be many more days at Wrigley and just as much wonder and awe.

Freud & Lewis

I thought I would just share about a book I recently finished called "The Question of God." It was written by Harvard professor Dr. Armand Nicholi, Jr. and is based on a class he teaches that looks at Freud and Lewis and their contrasting views on life. Freud was an atheist from his youth until his death. Lewis was an atheist from his youth until he was about thirty, when he converted to following a life after Christ. The book is fascinating. Nicholi looks at the world views held by the two geniuses and also at the actual way they lived out their lives to see if their world views matched with their daily lives. He tries to be as objective as possible, but Lewis (and therefore, Christianity) is shown to have a practical, livable faith. Maybe Nicholi isn't being completely objective in his writing, or perhaps the objectivity still points to Christianity. Freud's life is seen as being quite contradictory, and Lewis definitely believed his life was full of contradictions when he was an atheist. How can one be angry with God for not existing?

As I finished the book I was reminded of something one of my favorite thinkers once said. He also happens to be a great friend and we were having a dialogue about Christ. Specifically, he said that he was recently intrigued with Christ, and I asked him to clarify what he meant. What he wrote back was one of the greatest things I've read in years, and I'm only going to share two sentences of it here with you today. He wrote: "I'm fascinated that following Christ makes sense and I want to do it...I'm fascinated that faith works and it is the only way to live."

You see, Christ is continually calling me to follow Him. Sometimes the world that we live in makes me feel foolish or immature or unintelligent for taking up this calling. Freud was a man of great intelligence and has had a stunning influence on our world. But the thing is, he didn't live by what he believed. Lewis was also a pretty intelligent fellow and found that reason and joy and beauty and intelligence do line up with the calling to follow Christ. As the theologian said, "following Christ makes sense...faith works and it is the only way to live."

As a special bonus to this blog, I will give a candy bar to the first person to name this theologian.

"Yes, Mas'r?"

Another server and I took care of a rather exhausting and demanding party this past weekend. Thirteen people or so, at least half of them kids. Kids at the OG aren't usually a good thing. They're mostly annoying, fussy, and make tremendous messes that the parents simply ignore. On top of that, since children are expensive enough in themselves, these parents usually leave poor tips for services rendered. Anyway, back to this particular group on Friday night. You see, one of the more precocious girls was five-year-old Siera. She gave me what is another memorable story from life at the OG.

Siera realized she needed a refill on her apple juice. She raises her cup, looks my co-server in the eye, and says, "Excuse me, servant."

Funny, yes. Shocking, yes. Even more shocking is that her father heard her say this and did not correct her at all. Now, perhaps she meant to say "server" or perhaps her family continues in traditions of servanthood from centuries past. I hope Siera is a server some day. That to me would be divine justice.

Seedy Business

Okay, there are certain things in this life I simply don't understand. Let's talk about seeds for a minute. I know for a fact that farmers and people who understand plants and dirt and all of that are able to create various fruits that don't grow with their seeds. We've all enjoyed seedless watermelon on a hot summer day, right? Well, here's my question for those horticulturalists out there: Can you create the seedless lemon? You see, every night at the Olive Garden, I hear over and over, "Water with lemon, Water with lemon." It may be cheap or tacky or simply aid in the taste of our rather poor water system, but there is still one lingering problem and that is in the seeds. Those seeds get everywhere. People take them out of the glass and put them on the table (yes, right on the table! Vulgar, isn't it?!). They complain about them sticking in their straws and ask for new ones. In essence, I've never actually seen a customer gather up the seeds and take them home hoping to grow their very own lemon tree. So why not seedless lemons? It honestly is a genius idea and I hope someone steals it since I can't possibly make it happen.

An OG Engagement

Usually, I wonder what the heck I'm doing as a server at the Mansfield/Onatario Olive Garden here in Ohio. Last week, I realized that sometimes, as a part of my job, I get to witness the most unusual occurances that otherwise would never enter my life. This is probably my favorite story so far from my time at the OG. Here we go.

I often am one of the servers closing on any given night, meaning I'm one of the two or three that stay there until the end, waiting for any groups that may wander in two minutes before the doors are locked. Well, it was on such a night like this last week and things were pretty slow, as they usually are by 9 or so. Well, three people come in and, thankfully, they are not sat at one of my tables. There are two guys and one girl, probably all in their early twenties. Well, one of the guys leaves for quite some time, long enough that when I bring out their entrees (for the record, all three of them had chicken parmesean, one of our more over-rated dishes if you ask me) he still hasn't been there at all for his salad. So that's about ten or fifteen minutes. I guess I didn't think too much of it all, maybe he was having some problems in the restroom or was talking on his cell phone outside. Well, it turns out both of my assumptions were incorrect. You see, this young man left the restaurant, got in his car, and went to Wal-Mart, which is quite close to our restaurant. You may think this sounds odd, but it gets so much better.

When he came back from Wal-Mart, he showed the host what he had purchased: an engagement ring. Yes, you read that correctly, in the middle of dinner, he left his girlfriend and his friend, went to Wal-Mart, and came back with a ring. The host had the ring and brought it to the back of the restaurant and told us all about it. I was dumbfounded, as I'm assuming many of you are as well. I had so many questions: 1) Does Wal-Mart even sell real diamonds? 2) Had this guy planned this out ("Gosh, I bet it'd be really romantic for me to leave my girl with my buddy and go and get the ring during the actual dinner.") and actually came to the conclusion that this was his best option? 3) Why was his friend there in the first place?

I even asked the other workers about the whole diamond/rings/Wal-Mart question and really, I got kinda jumped on. I was laughing about the whole ring purchase when another server informed me that Wal-Mart actually has some very nice rings. Oh really, I asked? Well, how much do you think this ring costs? "Oh, probably three or four." "Hundred?! Wow...why didn't I get my ring from there?" Granted, money shouldn't matter, right? It's the thought that counts and we all know people are in different financial situations than others. With that being said, I would bet that most girls still don't want their ring bought at their local Wal-Mart, even if money is an issue. But maybe that's just me.

To really try to get to the bottom of all this, I recently spent some time on the Wal-Mart web-site, where there is an entire section for engagement jewelry. In fact, I think I found the actual ring that was used on that fated night. It's actually a very pleasant and simple three-stoned (total of a quarter carat) ring set in white gold and retails for $179. In case you're curious, here it is. As the description says, the ring is "so classy, she'll wear it every day." I couldn't find the ring that says, "this ring is so unique she'll only wear it on Mondays and Thursdays."

Well, dinner progresses, and the guy apparently is pretty nervous, his hand shaking when he gets refills or hands me his finished plate. Well, the plan was that we were going to put the ring in a dessert and bring it out after the meal. Only one problem. When the meal is finished and their server asks if they want dessert, they all say no. Now, at this point, who knows what this character was thinking. Did he forget the plan? Did he want us to take that as a signal that he no longer wanted to propose? Seriously, even if you're full and don't actually want dessert, you order it anyway. Common sense is missing from the minds of those in love.

So in the back, we take a platter, put a cloth napkin on it, put the diamond on the napkin, and cover the platter with another platter. We take it out and just put it in front of the girl. The friend right across from her was smiling and hitting on the waitress the whole time. So she takes off the top plate, sees the ring, starts crying, and everyone is happy. He never got on his knee and I actually doubt he actually ever said, "Will you marry me?," but the ring found its place on her hand and they all left in glee.

Only one more detail to this story. The dinner was about $45. Engagements happen every once in a while at the OG (this was my first encounter with the phenomenon), and most grooms-to-be leave rather impressive tips, as they should. Well, not this guy. The total amount left on the table was 43 cents.

These are some of the tales from the Olive Garden. I hope I soon have many more to share.

A Moment Like This

On Friday night I went to see Kelly Clarkson in concert. It was amazing. There were 8 of us...all current or past Taylor students, and I'll just say, we showed the world we know how to have a good time. Throughout the afternoon we spent time working on dance moves and lyric memorization and then made our t-shirts. "I-HEART-K-E-L-L-Y-!" I was the "E." As we were driving to the concert, Brian Beeh was driving and saw a SUV with some girls about our age looking at directions. His immediate response was, "They have directions out...they have to be going to the concert." Well, we passed them in a few minutes and I showed them my shirt, and they indeed had amazing Kelly t-shirts on too. When we got to the concert, they were only a few rows behind us. At the end of the concert, one of the girls gave me her t-shirt. It's pretty small, but I love it beyond description. Anyway, back to the concert. We were up in the balcony, but Kelly still kept looking up at me. And I just kept looking back. You see, she is pretty much the cutest thing ever. She was all over the stage, twirling around, letting herself go. She didn't have shoes on and you could just tell she was having a good time. Plus, she sounded freaking awesome. The choreography was a big hit (I'll admit that at one point I turned around and got the audience behind us to do the moves too) and everyone had a good time. I just wanted to share what I consider to be one of the greater moments of my life. Thank you Kelly.

"Drunkard's Prayer"

Several years ago, I was introduced to Over the Rhine, a music duo out of Cincinnati. Well, over the last couple of years, I have fallen in love with them. Last week, their new CD, "Drunkard's Prayer," came out. The CD arrived in my mailbox this morning and I simply must comment. Basically, it's one of the best things I've heard.

For those of you who know and love OTR (and I know there are many of you), the music is slightly different from previous CD's. The music is simpler and easier to hum. It's streamlined to and intimate. The lyrics still have puns and word plays and things I don't understand, but overall they're more straightforward as well. This isn't a bad thing, as the simplicity brings you to the heart and the emotion of the CD. These are artists who look at the world today and still see beauty and hope. I love that.

My favorite song on the CD might be "Born." The chorus goes,

"I was born to laugh
I learned to laugh through my tears
I was born to love
I'm gonna learn to love without fear."

The song makes me want to live life as it was meant to be lived and I find myself perplexed at how beautiful a life of laughter and love really is. It sounds so simple but I'm not even close. This song (and the whole CD really) makes me want to get just a little bit closer.

The title track could be a contemporary praise and worship song if it wasn't for the fact that it's actually really good and well-written. In the liner notes about the song, they say, "Everybody wants to be drunk on the good stuff--drunk on life, love, music, the wine of God and what not." In the New Testament, when the believers were first filled with the Holy Spirit and started speaking in tongues, the onlookers thought they were drunk. It takes some of that same holy foolhardiness to attempt to be an artist, a lover, a true friend, and adopted child of God." Karin sings that,

"Like an ocean
Without waves
You're the movement
That I crave

And in that motion
I long to drown
And be lost not to be found."

I want that "holy foolhardiness." I want to be an artist, a lover, a true friend, and certainly an adopted child of God. I love the thought of drowning in the wine of God, being completely consumed by the Holy Ghost, being lost not to be found.

I sat in my room with the door closed and the lights off and listened to the entire CD. Each song hit me in one way or another. From the first track ("I Want You to be My Love," which as soon as I heard I wanted to call Joy and ask if it could be the song we danced to at our wedding) to the last ("Funny Valentine," an old Rogers and Hart standard and one of my all-time Broadway favorites), I found something I could relate to and grasp as well as thoughts that pushed me on in this journey called life. As I listened I realized I want to see more beauty, I want to give more love.

So Much Beauty

I've recently been slightly overwhelmed with God's goodness. Yes, His goodness is everywhere and evident in all things, but sometimes it's just a little hard to see. Recently, this goodness has been in my face and obvious, perhaps a sign that I'm missing seeing the goodness when it's a little more hidden and subtle. Throughout my whole life I've witnessed this goodness, and have seen so many clear evidences in my family and in my own personal life.

For one, Victor the Volvo. I knew that going to Ireland this past summer would mean not working and therefore not saving money for a car I really did need. I prayed that God would provide a car, and a free one was given to me. And not any car, mind you, but Victor the Volvo. Well, last week I wrote about Victor's trauma, and just when I thought I had to give in and buy a car, I was reminded to just sit back and relax. At work there's this wonderful woman who is a teacher, has four kids, and is working on her black belt. She also happens to love Volvo's, and since I already knew this, I told her the sad news about my car. Well, as it turns out, her husband is literally a Volvo expert and she told me to have him look at my car. The original repair shop told me it couldn't be fixed, the Volvo dealership said it would be about $900, and Oliver (bless his soul) told me he could fix it for more than half that price. There aren't many Volvo's in the Shelby-metro area. It seems interesting to me that I work at the Olive Garden, where one of the workers I'm actually close to loves Volvo's, and her husband knows exactly how to fix them. It seems God smiles and tells me over and over again that He is active in my life, that He is pursuing me, that He is greater than anything I can imagine.

Aimee is a server at the Olive Garden who has a 2 year old son and is aga due again in a few months. She and her boyfriend are just in the process of buying a house as well. In the back of the restaurant last Saturday afternoon, I saw Aimee crying. She and I get along quite well, so I went over to her. She told me they were tears of joy and showed me a credit card slip. There was a $100 tip. With the tip was a note, "I just felt the Lord calling me to give this to you and I trust it will be useful to you, a blessing from the Lord." Now, in the world of tips, it's common knowledge that if you see a table praying before they eat that it's likely you're gonna get a pretty crappy tip. This is terribly sad and does not speak well of christians (and therefore, Christianity), but it is the way Christians are perceived by my fellow servers. (I've witnessed this firsthand when I get a really bad tip with a pamphlet that says, "If you died today, would you be going to hell?" Anyway, that's another subject for another day. Aimee cried for a good half-hour and was shaky all night. I just grinned and grinned and told her I was so delighted for her. The entire atmosphere at the Olive Garden was different and everyone read that note. People spoke well of God and His followers.

I have one more story, involving Julie and Barry. Julie is Joy's best-friend from her growing-up years and has been a great encouragement in our relationship. She and her man Barry are both full-time students paying for college by themselves and are also very involved in ministry and "college stuff," leaving time for another job hard to find. About a month ago, Julie received an anonymous envelope in the mail. When she opened it, she found ten $100 bills. There was a note saying that the ministry they did was appreciated and it was understood that sacrifices were being made in order for that ministry to happen.

These are just some examples of what I love about the body of Christ. Yeah, these stories all involve money, but I don't think that's the point. It's that these people felt blessed with what they had and wanted to give to others, both to those who know Christ and those who do not. To me, these are examples of Christ's love being displayed in action, examples of faith with works, examples of giving to the poor and needy, examples of Christ.

I hope you see the blessings in your own life. I admit that they usually aren't this clear and obvious, but I also believe they are there regardless. It's been one of those weeks that I think of the movie "American Beauty." In the film, Ricky, a teenager who deals drugs and suffers from an abusive father, comments on the beauty that he films. He says, "Sometimes there is so much beauty in the world I feel like I can't take it. And my heart is going to cave in." It's an overwhelming feeling and it's totally sweet. This is a little bit of how I've felt this week and I catch myself laughing for no reason and crying because I don't know how else to be thankful.

"Thy love the flame"

I found this poem recently and thought I would share it with everyone today. It was written by the George Croly, a minister in the Anglican church in the 19th Cenutry:

Spirit of God, descend upon my heart,
Wean it from earth, through all its pulses move;
Stoop to my weakness, mighty as Thou art,
And make me love Thee as I ought to love.

I ask no dream, no prophet ecstasies,
No sudden rending of the veil of clay,
No angel visitant, no opening skies:
But take the dimness of my soul above.

Hast Thou not bid us love Thee, God and King?
All, all Thine own, soul, heart and strength and mind!
I see Thy cross, there teach my heart to cling:
O let me seek Thee, and O let me find!

Teach me to feel that Thou art always nigh;
Teach me the struggles of the soul to bear,
To check the rising doubt, the rebel sigh;
Teach me the patience of unanswered prayer.

Teach me to love Thee as Thine angels love,
One holy passion filling all my frame;
The baptism of the heaven descended Dove;
My heart an altar, and Thy love the flame.

Jesus is not a Product

Yesterday, I watched a preview for a special by CNBC about God and Money and how the evangelical movement is gaining more and more political and economic power. In the segment, which was grantedly only a few minutes long and I didn't get to see the actual program, they show mega-churches with "mega-pastors" speaking to tens of thousands. There was one thing that really bothered me.

I am familiar with his name, but have never heard anything about him and haven't read any of his books: T.D. Jakes. In an interview, he said, speaking about mega-churches and the growth of evangelicalism, "I think that Jesus is the product, and when the product is excellent, it doesn't require a big sales pitch." While he main mean well (saying that Christ really is the focus and not all the materialism/consumerism that seems to go with Christianity in America), saying that "Jesus is the product" just rubs me the wrong way. I don't like the way that sounds, I don't like what I think it implies. I'm sorry (actually, I'm not sorry at all, but quite thankful for it), but Jesus Christ is not a product at all. He is not like a CD or car or fancy commodity that is invading culture. I think it bothers me when Jesus, who is God, is put up for sale, as it were. He does not fade with time like other products, and Christ offers true life and love, something I haven't seen in Target recently. There is no early-bird sale, no low-interest incentive, and no mail-in rebate.

Maybe I'm just making a big deal out of nothing. But maybe when well-known Christian leaders in America start saying things like "Jesus is the product" we realize just how far away from the true message of Jesus we really are. When we start saying that Jesus is a product, we are simply encouraging an already consumer- and material-obsessed culture to see Christ in the same way, as something we need for this season or to fit this need, but hey, if Jesus is out in the spring and Mohammed is the new fad next year, then I guess that's fine too.

On a completely different subject, today my good friend Taylor Skiles turns 18!!! Happy Birthday my Nepali friend!

Walking on Water

The other night, I realized (once again) just how unhappy I can be with who I am. I was upset about this or that, wondering why I couldn't write like this person or think like this person, why I couldn't be more clever or funny, why I wasn't just really really attractive. What it comes down to is that I live my life very much looking for and desiring the affirmation of those around me. As I thought about this more and more, I realized that this puts me really far from Jesus. Not just far from being like Jesus, but even far from just being with Him and remaining in His presence.

I read John 10 and around midnight decided I was going on a bike-ride around Shelby. I spend so much time thinking about life, about faith and religion, about grace and love, that I so often forget about Jesus and that He is the center or it all. I forget to simply rest in His presence, abide in Him, spend time with Him, and get to know Him. As I rode around Shelby, I realized that I really do desire to know Jesus. I want to have His eyes, His ears, His words, His love...not someone else's. And as I biked, I wondered what it would be like to really know Jesus in the flesh, you know, like John or Peter or the woman at the well. If Jesus had asked me to leave a boat in the middle of the lake and walk towards Him, I wonder if I would have even left the boat. If Jesus had asked me to start passing out the bread and the fish to the thousands, I wonder if I would have even moved. But really, I'm pretty sure Jesus and I would have been friends. I wonder if we would have breakfast together or go skinny dipping together or if we would just sit and talk and I would maybe play with His hair the way I do with Taylor. I wonder if I would have been embarassed to pray in front of Him or ask Him my host of questions. I wonder how He would show me that He loved me in a way that was special just for the two of us.

I so often seek to be more like my friends, to adopt those traits I admire, to seek the praise of those I admire most. I'm pretty sure I would have liked everything about Jesus in the flesh and would have desired approval and affirmation from Him. Why isn't that true now? Because the thing that changes everything from wanting to be like my friends to wanting to be like Jesus is that Jesus is God, in whom I am called to follow and imitate and even bring pleasure to Him when I do so. Why do I settle for the things of this world when true Glory awaits me? As C.S. Lewis said, why am I like "an ignorant child who wants to go on making mud pies in a slum because he cannot imagine what is meant by the offer of a holiday at the sea."?

I want to be like Jesus. I want to hear Him call my name and trust that He will make my joy complete. I want to stop wanting to be bits and pieces of everyone else and believe the truth that says I am God's beloved, God's child, that God is crazy-in-love with me. I want to truly live by dying to myself. I want to have greater faith. I want to have a greater concept of grace and acceptance and beauty and love. I want to let go of pride and selfishness and cling to Jesus and all that He is. I want to walk on water.